Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [84]
“They were bound by the ill-made promise of another,” Galen said. “They are innocent of witchcraft, as is their father. The deaths of those princes were brought about by the King Under Stone, who was as real as you or I, and as evil as Bishop Schelker is good. The King Under Stone did this without the knowledge or the aid of the princesses. But now he is dead, many of his sons are dead, and those that live are bound within their dark realm.”
“How can you be sure?” King Gregor put a protective hand on Hyacinth’s arm.
“Galen made a chain,” Rose said, stepping forward. After years of enforced silence, she couldn’t bear to let Galen be the one to tell the whole story. “Of black wool knit with silver needles made from the branches of this tree.” She held up the leaf. “The trees in the underworld were sprouted by Mama’s brooch, the one given to her by her godfather in Breton. The gate is chained, and the knot pierced with a silver cross. The creatures of the Kingdom Under Stone can no longer influence our world.”
“You did this?” King Gregor was on his feet now, looking at Galen like a man reprieved. “You saved my daughters and barred the underworld?”
“Yes, sire,” Galen said quietly. “Walter Vogel helped me, and so did Fraulein Anne. I had the cook boil the chain with basil and nightshade, to strengthen it, and the cross was my mother’s.”
“He was invisible!” Petunia could no longer be contained either. “He was running around, and shooting the bad princes, and yelling, and he threw me and Pansy on the raft so that we could get away. Oh! The shawl he made Rosie was magic, and it turned into a raft! And he gave Lily a gun, and she shot someone!”
Pansy tugged her father’s sleeve. “And he made me this,” she whispered, and showed King Gregor her now rather mangled red puffball.
“Did he?” King Gregor lifted Pansy in his arms. “What a brave young man!” He gave Galen a speculative look. “And how exactly were you able to make yourself invisible, Master Werner?”
“With this,” Galen said. He drew a dull purple cape from his satchel and threw it about his shoulders. When he fastened the gold clasp, he disappeared.
Even having seen it before, several of Rose’s sisters cried out, along with the councillors. Petunia clapped, though, and stepped forward to poke the air where he had been.
“Galen, where are you?”
“Right here.”
Petunia was lifted in the air by invisible hands. Then she disappeared too. They both reappeared a moment later, and Galen put her down, looking exhausted but smiling all the same.
“I went under the cape and went invisible,” Petunia squealed. “Rosie! Did you see?”
“I saw,” Rose said, taking her hand. Her gaze was on Bishop Schelker.
But it was the prime minister who spoke.
“So,” Lord Schiller said. “Witchcraft!”
“Oh, stuff!” The minister of finance, an elderly man with thin wisps of white hair, spoke up. “Such magical artifacts were common in my grandmother’s day. I remember her telling me of seven league boots and the like.” He held out a tremulous hand. “May I see that cape?”
“Of course, sir.” Galen handed it over, but with reluctance. “It was given to me by an old woman I met on my way here to Bruch,” he said.
“A witch,” someone hissed.
“I believe she may have been one of the magicians who bound Under Stone into his prison,” Galen said, stopping all further comment. Even Bishop Schelker merely nodded and looked thoughtful.
“Whoever she was, if she ever comes to my gate I shall make her a baroness,” Rose’s father said. He turned to address his councillors. “Are you yet satisfied that my daughters are not guilty of the deaths of those unfortunate princes?”
The councillors argued, they muttered and pounded the table. Walter remained silent, and when Galen looked to him, the old man simply shrugged. There was no way, Galen supposed, that Walter could prove who he was.
Bishop Schelker asked that Angier’s accusations be discounted, since he